


Theory

by GangstaCrow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i made a theory i need to share, so i projected it onto yamaguchi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GangstaCrow/pseuds/GangstaCrow
Summary: Kei blinks in confusion. “Your… theory?”Yamaguchi nods enthusiastically. “About Ratatouille!”Or: Yamaguchi theorizes and Tsukishima likes freckles.





	Theory

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. i made a theory about Ratatouille and needed to tell people about it  
> 2\. i didnt edit this but enjoy anway lol

It's not rare for Yamaguchi to be in Kei’s room. Actually, it'd be strange if they weren't spending time together here with the way they're practically joined at the hip when they don't have practice. That said, Yamaguchi is still quiet and sweet and doesn't like to intrude or cause a ruckus, so why he'd suddenly busted Kei’s bedroom door wide open quivering with excitement is beyond him.

He's happy though, happier than Kei’s seen him in the past couple weeks with all the stress from him practising to perfect his serve. It makes his chest blossom with warmth and his cheeks heat ever so slightly. Kei's trying to force himself not to blush, but the fact that Yamaguchi's bounded over next to him on his bed with childlike glee and persistent giggling isn't helping. Kei halts his move to turn the page of his book, and looks him in the eye in an effort to ignore his thighs peeking out from his shorts.

Yamaguchi beams at him. “I've figured it out Tsukki! After three days, I've finally got it!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Your jump serve?”

This startles Yamaguchi, the grin slipping from his face. He's sullen, lips pressed into a thin line. “Not yet.”

_Wrong thing to say._ Kei sets his book to the side, focusing all his attention on Yamaguchi ~~not on his legs or his freckles or his nose or his smile or his thighs, shut up~~. “So what's got you so excited?”

He shakes it off, his face perking up into a smile that could rival Hinata’s. “My theory! I've finally put it together in a way that fits!”

Kei blinks in confusion. “Your… theory?”

Yamaguchi nods enthusiastically. “About Ratatouille!”

_What._ “Wait, the Disney movie?”

More nodding.

Kei sighs. _I'm gonna regret this._ He crosses his legs, motioning to Yamaguchi. “Go on. Let's hear this ‘theory’.”

Yamaguchi squeals- literally squeals- before lunging at Kei to encase him in a hug. “Thanks Tsukki!”

He lets go way too fast, and Kei doesn't even get a chance to hug him back before he's got his legs crossed across from him.

He clears his throat, takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, and gets right into it. “So I did some research, and I found out that black rats can only live for twelve months. That means all the events of the movie have to take place in one year, so we can kind of guess Remy’s age. Even though he's young, we can assume he matures faster than we do as humans due to his short lifespan, which means Remy knows all of this stuff about cooking when he's what? One, maybe two months old?”

The freckles on Yamaguchi’s cheeks dance when he talks. He has a lot of them, but they're much too light for anyone else to notice unless they're as close to Yamaguchi’s face as Kei gets. Maybe the people on the other side on the net can see them if they're right across from each other, and for that reason alone, he's a teeny bit glad Yamaguchi isn't on the court. It's unreasonably selfish, but he doesn't want anybody to see them. They rest on his cheeks, on his nose, just under his nose, everywhere really, acting like tiny ghosts having a little party. With each movement of his jaw, the twitching of his nose, the scrunching up of his face as he changes his train of thought, they move with everything. It's like they're excited little kids trying to let out pent up energy before they take a nap, or they're stars twinkling at night when it's so dark outside not even street lights seem to help.

There's a freckle to the left of Yamaguchi’s lips. Lighter than every other one on his face, even the party ghosts, it’d almost completely blend into Yamaguchi’s skin if not for the fact that his eye is immediately drawn to it if it rests in its general area. It's Kei’s favorite because he's probably the only one who knows it's there- he doesn't even think Yamaguchi knows about it.

This theory is getting kind of weird, but Kei doesn't mind. “So I've been thinking… what if the whole thing never happened? Like, gaining global attention and buying a house and doing all that other stuff doesn't happen in that short amount of time.” Yamaguchi’s leaning closer, his hands on Kei’s knees and his breath mixing with his own. Kei’s holding his breath because there's peppermint flooding his senses and it's just so full of Yamaguchi that he feels like he can't breathe without inhaling his entire being.

Yamaguchi is whispering, like what he's about to say is for Kei’s ears only, so he leans closer to he can hear exactly what it is. “I'm thinking that at the beginning of the movie, when Remy is smelling the colony’s food for poison, it doesn't kill him. It makes him hallucinate, makes him _high_ on rat poison.”

When Yamaguchi speaks it's like a smooth whistle. During middle school when he’d had braces, he would always let out a crisp sound when he spoke too fast or stuttered. But even without the braces, it's just the smooth movement of the air through Yamaguchi’s teeth, and sometimes, if he listens closely, he can hear that subtle, light, jovial sound.

Kind of like now, when he's passionate and excited and without a filter. “So the entire movie is just Remy being high, and when he's having his hallucinations of being a chef and owning a restaurant, it's just the side effect of him inhaling the fumes of the poison on the food his family's been making him check.”

Yamaguchi’s hands are still soft at their tips. His serving has been making the rest of his hands a bit more rough. It’s nothing like Kei’s or anyone else on the team who's a regular, but they're not as soft as they used to be. The point where his palms rest on Kei are getting goosebumps and he wants those smooth fingertips to run over them.

But all of that is interrupted by Yamaguchi’s fucked up ending.

“And when Remy’s one day away from his death, the very night he takes his final breath before he doesn't wake up again, he thinks he's going to sleep in his bed in the mansion he shares with Linguini, so he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.” Yamaguchi inhales deeply, and he leans closer, so close that he’s nose to nose with Kei and his breath is hitting his lips. His eyes are closed and Kei thinks he's being a bit too dramatic. “But when he lets it out and opens his eyes, he realizes he's not in France. He's still in that little old lady's attic. He dies at dawn the following morning, knowing his dream never came true and that everything he thought he did with his life was a lie.”

Kei shivers from the whole experience, but when his brain catches up with what was just said, his eyes widen in disbelief. “Yamaguchi. What the actual fuck.”

He's taken aback by the sudden use of profanity, and Yamaguchi jumps. “W-What?”

“Why did you make it so dark and depressing? Are you okay? Do you need to talk?”

The questions confuse him, catch him completely off guard. “I'm fine, but what do you mean dark? I thought it made sense given the circumstances!”

Kei scoffs, and Yamaguchi keeps trying to talk to him. And now he's distracted, can't focus on freckles or whistling or thighs or breathing because know he's trying to remember at what point in the movie could possible lead Yamaguchi to believe that this was an okay theory to come up with. And he discovers something important.

He _stares_ at Yamaguchi, watches him straighten up at Kei keeps his eyes trained on him with an incredulous expression. “Yamaguchi… you do realize Remy isn't a black rat right?”

He freezes. “Y-Yes he is.”

“No he's not. He's bluish grey.”

Kei stares. Yamaguchi stares. They keep staring, and his eyes go back to his favorite little freckle. Then a couple of hands are squishing his cheeks together, puckering his lips like a fish.

Yamaguchi is giggling at him, and his freckles- party ghosts and the plainly visible ones and every single one of them- are dusted pink. “Tsukki, I love you, but can you please stop being a smartass for one minute and let me enjoy myself.”

And Kei doesn't know if he means the theory or whatever he's about to do next when he says that, but now he's blushing the bright red that he's been trying his hardest to suppress. “Shut up Yamaguchi.” He sounds ridiculous and he probably looks it too, but then he's got his hands on Yamaguchi’s cheeks, brushing over those freckles.

Yamaguchi knocks their foreheads together, a bump that doesn't hurt his head but makes his heart burst. “Sorry Tsukki.”

 

Kei kisses those freckles. The ones everyone can see, the ones only some people can see, and he pays extra attention to the one only he can see, along with what's waiting next to it.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gangstacrowtwit) to see some quality shitposts and unoriginal content


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